


Humming a Different Tune

by Meldanya



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Piano
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 11:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6515887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meldanya/pseuds/Meldanya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack wonders: why does Miss Fisher have a piano if she doesn't play? Jack's musings on pianos & Phryne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Humming a Different Tune

**Author's Note:**

> "What are you going to do with your weekend, Melda? Clean? Get work done?" Nope. Let's just write fics about MFMM and pianos. Here's some Jack-based piano fluff.
> 
> Title's from [Let's Face the Music and Dance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YtZrXzoaJvc) by Irving Berlin.

Why did Miss Fisher have a piano? Jack ran his hand across the lid — a  gorgeous, expensive instrument, that he hadn’t even know was available in Australia.

When he first saw it, he’d assumed that she played. But he soon realized that there had been no money for music lessons for this Collingwood girl, and while Miss Fisher had many talents, he knew that not an hour of her adulthood had been spent practicing scales. 

So, Jack spent evening after evening, sitting in her parlour, eyeing that untouched piano. When was the last time it had been played? Had it ever?

His mother had been a music teacher, and had insisted that he learn to play. He remembered hot summer afternoons stuck inside practicing, kicking his feet, wanting to be outside on his bicycle. Bach, Beethoven, Schubert, Schumann — his mother threw one after another at him.

He’d been glad for the musical ability when he’d started courting girls — playing the popular songs of the day for them and their families, getting them to laugh and sing. If Jack had really wanted to impress a girl, he’d roll out a delicate, intense Chopin prelude, showing just what his fingers could do.

Rosie had fallen for the Chopin the first time he came to call at the Sanderson house. Jack sometimes felt like their entire courtship had been spent on that piano bench, laughing through duets, sneaking kisses when her father stepped out of the room, his fingers flying across the keys to tell her how he loved her. 

After the war, his hands felt unfamiliar, stiff with the memories of the cold, the mud, the dying men’s blood. He stopped playing.

He’d forgotten about music for close to a decade, until he started spending evenings with Miss Fisher and that ridiculously expensive instrument simply begging to be played.

One night after dining with her, he went home and sat at Rosie’s old piano. He was shocked by how hard it was — his fingers struggled with tunes he’d mastered when he was nine. 

Jack began playing a bit every night, slowly getting his hands working again. He started with Bach as he puzzled through the difficult cases, trying to get ahead of Miss Fisher. He spent the evening with Beethoven after Foyle’s arrest, and dusted off the popular songs of his youth after Queenscliff. 

Rosie had left behind some of her more modern music: Cole Porter, Irving Berlin. He’d play those when he came home late at night, buzzing from Miss Fisher’s company. Jack completely gave into 1929 and learned every new jazz standard he could find. 

Each evening at Miss Fisher’s house, that beautiful instrument still sat untouched. Why  _ did  _ she have a piano?

Finally, after Collins’ engagement party, he was alone in the parlour with the piano. Feeling bold with champagne, Jack picked out a tune. 

“Well, Archie,” Miss Fisher’s voice sounded from the doorway.  _ Damn. _ He stopped reluctantly to rise to meet her.

“Don’t stop on my account,” her voice was amused, intrigued. Jack smirked as he sat back down, he did enjoy when he surprised her.

It had been a lifetime since he had courted a girl from a piano bench. The world had changed: the music was different, the girl was  _ very  _ different, but the process was still the same. 

Well, not  _ quite _ the same, he thought as he chose a song for Miss Fisher: 

_ We're all alone, no chaperone _ __  
_ Can get our number _ __  
_ The world's in slumber _ _  
_ ___Let's misbehave_

“Don’t miss a note now, Robinson,” he chided to himself, as Phryne's throaty voice seemed to slide down his collar.  

_ There's something wild about you child _ __  
_ That's so contagious _ __  
_ Let's be outrageous _ __  
___Let's misbehave_

How could he show her how perfect every line was for her? 

_ You know my heart is true _ __  
_ And you say you for me care... _ __  
_ Somebody's sure to tell, _ __  
___But what the heck do we care?_

What would it be like to run his fingers over her body instead of these keys? 

_ They say that bears have love affairs _  
_ And even camels _ __  
_ We're merely mammals _ __  
_ Let's misbehave _

By the end of the song, Jack could barely catch his breath, consumed by thoughts of taking Phryne right here on the bench. 

He finally knew why Miss Fisher had a piano.  


End file.
